


Untouchable Face

by irolltwenties (Shenanigans)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Girls Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 08:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18465712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans/pseuds/irolltwenties
Summary: There were times when Maria felt everyone too deeply and Rosa would hand her a joint. She wouldn’t say anything, just reading the way Maria seemed a little raw at the edges. The days when Alex would flinch a little from people passing in the hallways. The days when Liz would just stare out the window of the cafe, eyes faraway over her AP Chem textbook as she searched each car slowing down to pull into the parking lot. Rosa would go black eyed and vacant, smiling the sad mimiograph of her real smile- dimmed and blurred in some stolen Xanax. Maria would feel it all, feel it all and she would just take the joint. There was a small part of her that hated that Rosa was her dealer even as it burned her out from the inside- too hot to stay stable.





	Untouchable Face

Rosa’s hair smells like Nag Champa and Maria is fumbling through whiskey numb fingers to braid it. She kept coughing back a giggle, ducking her smile against her shoulder as Rosa sang some Ani DiFranco off key and under her breath. They’d crawled off of the ledge of the Crash Down when Rosa had gestured too wildly- always epic, always so much larger than life- and Maria had grabbed her by the back of her shirt. They’d stared at each other for a blindly panicked moment before dissolving into giggles and skittering back to slide onto the roof. 

New Mexico baked the tar top warm and gummy in the late Spring months, ramping up to melt it tacky enough to stain the white of Rosa’s converse in Summer. She’d just draw over it later, anyway. Maria loved when she’d simply grab her hand in second bell Algebra and start writing across her palm. It felt soft and close, the tent of her hair draped around her wrist as Maria simply stared. She remember the day she’d laughed so hard the gum had fallen out of her mouth and Rosa had shrugged and popped it into her own mouth.

She’d wanted to kiss her then, but James Redfin had interrupted them, slicing into their conversation with a sharp, “You guys gonna make out?”

Rosa had stared at him, mouth a flat line before she grinned and widened her eyes, leaning forward to simmer at him. He’d blinked, red hair a sad buzz cut he’d had since third grade. “Maybe some other time,” she sighed, voice a warm burr. “Fuck you, very much.” 

Later in the hallway, Rosa grabbed her hand, bumping her shoulder into Maria and didn’t let go. She dragged her through the halls, ignoring the stares and it felt so good to just be someone that was wanted. It felt so wonderful to have someone who loved her so much that it didn’t matter who was looking. 

Maria felt like she fit with Rosa’s hand in hers. 

They smoked too much weed. Rosa stared at her bleary eyed one night, dark circles like bruises as she sighed through the pain of yet another breakup. Maria wanted to throw things at the boys who made Rosa feel less than. She wanted to hit the ones who made her feel second best. She wanted to stand between Rosa and the world, but Rosa was something that couldn’t be contained. She splashed herself all over this town and all over Maria’s heart. 

“I’m going to steal one of those we are not alone posters from the museum,” Rosa told Alex on a Tuesday in April as she clambered onto the bed in Maria’s room to get a closer look at what they were doing. He was still wearing the green visor as Maria held onto his chin, telling him to stop squirming with a light pressure of her fingertips as she applied the eyeliner. 

“God, it’s unfair these eyelashes,” she muttered at him, glancing over at Rosa. “I don’t think you’re supposed to announce petty crime.”

“I don’t care,” Alex said, keeping his eyes up at the ceiling- stoic as his eyes watered a little. “They don’t pay me enough to care. Also, the uniform is bullshit.” Sometimes, Maria wanted to kiss him too, but that was just because sometimes he looked so lost- so far away and angry that she felt like someone should just remind him that he was breathtaking. Rosa leaned forward, hooking her chin over Maria’s shoulder and there was that soft smokey scent again. She was sure she could feel Rosa’s breasts against her back, that electric awareness that it might be a nipple brushing against the back of her arm- that Rosa wasn’t wearing a bra under that super soft black shirt.

“Well, it’s not like it’s true,” Maria muttered, turning to peck a smile to Rosa’s temple- distracting herself.

Alex’s eyes flicked to her and she shrugged. “What’s not true?” He glanced at Rosa. “I’m lost.”

Maria sighed, thumbing under his eyes to smudge the black delicately. “We’re all alone.”

“Fucking dark, DeLuca,” Rosa sounded impressed. Maria didn’t miss the pulse of something sad that shocked in her chest- it wasn’t hers and she didn’t want it.

There were times when Maria felt everyone too deeply and Rosa would hand her a joint. She wouldn’t say anything, just reading the way Maria seemed a little raw at the edges. The days when Alex would flinch a little from people passing in the hallways. The days when Liz would just stare out the window of the cafe, eyes faraway over her AP Chem textbook as she searched each car slowing down to pull into the parking lot. Rosa would go black eyed and vacant, smiling the sad mimiograph of her real smile- dimmed and blurred in some stolen Xanax. Maria would feel it all, feel it all and she would just take the joint. There was a small part of her that hated that Rosa was her dealer even as it burned her out from the inside- too hot to stay stable.

Tonight she’d started out early, leaving the bar and too full of everyone else to pay attention to where she was going. She always ended up here anyway. She couldn’t help it- Rosa Ortecho was something wild and charismatic, like standing on the porch during tornado season instead of heading to the cellar. She couldn’t look away.

They’d been quoting Empire Records all night, moving back and forth from part to part, skipping between it and an older show- The Young Ones- that Rosa had found on grainy VHS at the thrift store. Rosa was muttering them back and forth, reaching up to touch the bottom of maria’s chin as she continued the long rambling fishtail braid that puddled in her lap. Maria nipped at her fingertip, wrinkling her nose. “I’m going to get the fuck out of here,” Rosa said.

“Fuck yes, you are,” Maria agreed, bending over her to smile upside down. 

“I’ll go to Chicago.”

“Or Seattle!’

“Or Prague!”

“You’ll be a writer,” Maria continued. 

“I’ll be a singer in a chick band that covers only 90 riot girl rock.”

“And I’ll have a gallery,” Maria continued. “I’ll be able to show the art to the world, remind people of what’s so beautiful about another point of view.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll live in New York and have a studio apartment,” she continued, turning the end of the braid to rub against the side of Rosa’s face absently, painting along her jawline with light touches. “I’ll have a cat and I won’t need anyone. I’ll sing in your band while you play bass.”

“I don’t know how to play bass,” Rosa didn’t say it like it was a bad thing. It was a challenge and she was always up for the fight. 

“Men will throw themselves at you and I will hit them with my microphone.”

“Men will throw themselves at you,” Rosa corrected, reaching up to tap the tip of her nose. “They’d be stupid not to.”

They stared for a moment and Maria touched the mole at the corner of Rosa’s eye. She let her fingers smooth over her cheek and it felt like something weighted- something round and charged in the air. Maria slid her fingertips over Rosa’s mouth- she knew it was a question. She knew it was something that would sit in the warm spaces of her memory. It was already in the past tense in her mind. Rosa swallowed and touched her tongue to the pad of Maria’s thumb, curious and watching Maria with those dark eyes. 

The sweet curl that shocked around her lungs to settle just under her ribs startled her, but she didn’t stop. She bent, leaning and caught Rosa’s mouth with a soft touch- catching her bottom lip lightly to taste her lip gloss.

“Strawberry,” Maria whispered, smiling and pulling back a little, thinking it would be one of those moments that they’d simply tuck away as the weed. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, shoulders sweetly tense around the heat that coiled startling in her chest. “Are you sure you-”

“Don’t,” Rosa’s brows knit together, curious and considering before reaching up and tangling her fingers in Maria’s hair to pull her back down. 

*

Ten years later, Maria buys only strawberry chapstick.

**Author's Note:**

> Come flail with me [here](irolltwenties.tumblr.com)!


End file.
